


issues

by pragmatic



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9687413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmatic/pseuds/pragmatic
Summary: "I can't promise that we won't hurt each other." He said.She shrugged. "All I'm asking is that we try."He grinned. "That can be arranged."





	

_I'm jealous, I'm overzealous_  
_When I'm down, I get real down_  
_When I'm high, I don't come down_  
_I get angry, baby, believe me_  
 _I could love you just like that  
And I could leave you just as fast_

\---

"God, what is wrong with you!?" She yelled, resisting the urge to yank at her hair. Bellamy made her want to rip out every single strand.

He gave her a look of complete distain. "Are you kidding? You're the one who came barging into my apartment—"

She gaped. "Only because you weren't answering your goddamn door!"

"—and you ask what's wrong with me? There is nothing logical about this conversation!" He threw his hands down in frustration.

She was only there in the first place because he wasn't answering his phone and she had a question about the exam tomorrow in the history class they shared, it's not like she could just _leave_ it. That would be terribly out of character for her.

She stomped over until she was directly under his nose. "I just came to ask a simple question. God forbid you actually act selfless for once." She spat.

His gaze narrowed, and she knew it was a low blow. But he was being a complete dick. "Like you can talk, _princess_."

The nickname stung, just like he intended, and she flared her nostrils in annoyance. She was dangerously close to grabbing the scissors off the counter and stabbing him.

She didn't know why they fought about everything, she didn't know why they couldn't be civil, especially out in public. She didn't even know why they fighting right now, but she did know that she wasn't going to back down.

"You're an asshole, Bellamy. I can see why Octavia moved across the country, it was to get away from you." She watched his jaw clench, and she didn't enjoy how smug she felt when she realized she'd hit a nerve.

He leaned in close to her face, so close that his breath fanned her face. "And I can see why your mother disowned you." His voice was dangerously low, as it usually got when these fights headed south.

She bit her tongue in an attempt to keep her tears at bay, he knew how to hurt her just as well as she knew how to hurt him.

She said, "Go to hell, Bellamy." Before spinning on her heel and slamming the door closed.

She practically threw herself down the stairs in an effort to get away. When she was finally outside, she allowed a single tear to break free, she wiped it away and continued on her way to school.

In her haste, she didn't notice the man walking straight in front of her, and she rammed right into him.

And his scalding hot coffee.

"Fuck." She gritted her teeth as she pinched her shirt, holding it away from her body. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She was having the _worst_ day.

The man began to stutter out apologies. "I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. God, I'm such a klutz. Here," He took off his scarf and handed it to her. "Take this, to cover the stain."

She took it cautiously, then wound it around her neck. It smelt good. "How will I get it back to you?"

He grinned, and she noticed he had very white teeth. "Call me."

The corner of her mouth twitched as she fought a smile. "But I don't have your number."

"I'm sure we can fix that." He swiped the phone out of her hand and began to type something in.

He handed in back a moment later. "See you soon, I hope."

She nodded, and stepped around him to get on her way.

When she checked her phone, she noticed he'd made his contact name The Coffee Klutz. She hid her smile in her hand.

She had completely forgotten about why she was so upset only a few minutes ago.

\---

It turned out his name was Finn, and he was fun. He surprised her at work, fucked her anywhere she pleased, fucked her _well_. She was very much enjoying herself.

Until she brought him to the bar to be introduced to her friends.

Her friend group consisted of Jasper, Monty, Miller, Harper, Monroe and Murphy. (Bellamy too, but she didn't consider him a friend exactly.) It used to contain Octavia as well, until she moved in with her boyfriend on the other side of the country.

Jasper and Monty got on with Finn fine, but they didn't joke with him as much as she'd hoped they would. Miller mostly pretended he wasn't there, Harper was too shy with new people to really forge a friendship, and Monroe just didn't seem to like him.

Bellamy was a different story all together, he growled out the questions he asked, almost accusing Finn of something every time. He would utter something under his breath whenever Finn made an attempt at a joke, and if he didn't understand something that was said, Bellamy would smirk very widely.

After almost forty five minutes of this, Clarke was getting more and more angry. And it was all directed at Bellamy.

She stood abruptly, making everyone jump. "We need more drinks. Bellamy? Come with me?"

He gave her a surprised look then followed her to the bar. "What's up, princess?"

She bristled at his cheery tone, and ordered the drinks before turning to him. "Stop treating Finn like that."

She wanted to smack the amused smirk that lined his face. "Like what?"

She poked a finger into his chest, and was surprised to feel firm muscle underneath his t-shirt. "You know, what. He doesn't deserve to be treated like he's five."

Bellamys chest rumbled with laughter. "Clarke, he didn't know what Hiroshima was! He thought it was a _movie_!" He made exaggerated gestures to make his point.

She glared. "We can't all be know-it-alls, Bellamy. Either play nice, or shut up." She didn't leave room for argument.

She noticed the muscle in his jaw jump before she headed back to the table, drinks in hand.

Bellamy was considerably quieter when he made his way back to the group, and she watched in astonishment as he actually did what she asked.

"Clarke? You ok?" Finns lips ghosted against her ear.

She gave him a smile. "Yeah, of course."

\---

"You're friends hate me." He whined from her bed. She sat beside him and stroked his hair.

"They don't hate you, they just have to warm up to you." She said, smiling as he leaned into her touch.

He peeked an eye open to give her a look, like, _are you kidding_. "And how long do you suppose that'll take?"

She shrugged. "Dunno."

He narrowed his eyes, then held out his arms. "Come here, making out is sure to make me feel better."

 _Ignoring the problem, as per usual._ She thought before she could stop herself. She swatted it away and crawled into his waiting embrace. Her friends would get to know him and they'd adore him, just like she did.

\---

Octavia visited a week after new years, sporting a new hair cut and several different tattoos.

"Octavia!" She squealed, spinning the girl around as they hugged in the airport.

"I love the new do! When'd that happen?" Clarke played with the ends of Octavia's hair, it barely brushed her jaw.

She fluffed it up. "A few weeks ago. Lincoln says it makes me look sexy."

Clarke linked their arms together and began to walk to her car. "I agree."

"How's Bell?" She asked in the car.

Clarke attempted to hide her wince at the mention of his name, and thankfully, Octavia didn't seem to notice. "Good? I guess? Broody as always."

Octavia snorted. "Sounds like him. Now, tell me about the boyfriend!"

Clarke flushed. "Ah, he's good too. Great sex, he's really sweet. I like him."

Octavia reached over and squeezed her hand. "That's good, Clarke, I'm happy for you."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

\---

"Honey! I'm home—oh my god! What the fuck is going on here?"

Clarke threw herself off of Finns naked body when she heard another girl squawk in protest. She hurried to hide herself under the covers, but her mind was still reeling. _Honey? Why did she call him honey?_

Finn was stammering. "Raven! I didn't think you'd be home for—"

The brunette—Raven, apparently—crossed her arms. "Another two weeks? That was the plan, but I decided to surprise you. I definitely nailed that." She gave Clarke a venomous look.

But Clarke had turned her eyes to Finn. "What is she talking about?"

"Um, you see—" He stuttered.

Raven caught him off. "I'm his girlfriend of five years, who are you?"

Clarkes face contorted, like she'd tasted something sour. "His now ex-girlfriend." She made a noise of disgust before she climbed out of the bed, a sheet wrapped around her, and began getting dressed.

When she had finished, she turned to Finn, who was still frozen in shock. "I'll have someone drop your stuff off. Delete my number, don't ever call me again."

She gave Raven a sympathetic look before she made her way out the door.

At the bar, she asked for the strongest drink they had, which was disgusting, but after a while she didn't notice it.

After her third, someone plopped into the seat beside her, and she couldn't hide her surprise when she looked over and saw she was staring at Bellamy.

Which, her very drunk brain seemed to be very happy about. "Bellamy! _Helloooo_!" She proceeded to throw her arms around him in an off kilter hug, which he returned cautiously.

He carefully sat her back on her seat, she had somehow slipped a little into his lap, now how did that happen. "Finn kept calling your apartment—"

Her ears perked. "How would you know?"

He sighed. "I was visiting Octavia, you know, your roommate, you knew this—"

She slammed her hands down on the bar in realization. "Oh yeah! Octavia! How is she? She should come down here—"

He inhaled heavily. "Clarke, can we focus? Yeah? Finn was calling, and he didn't know where you were, and his calls weren't going through to your cell phone—"

"That's because I blocked his number!" She let out a whoop, and the few scattered people who were there raised their drinks in appreciation.

Bellamy furrowed his brow, and she thought about how cute it was. _Aw. That's cute._ "Why? Did you guys break up?"

She nodded. "Yeah we did. _Yeah_ we did! It was great, I was great. You should have seen the look on his face! You would've loved it, you always hated him. Why is that?" She was kind of tripping over her words and swaying where she sat, and her mouth tasted awful.

Bellamys forehead wrinkled. "I never—I don't—I never _hated_ him. Strongly dislike, at most—" He shook his head. "Not the point. Why did you break up?"

She counted off the reasons on her fingers. "Well, he already has a girlfriend. That girlfriend showed up, while we were having sex—boy was _that_ awkward—and he was a little bit of a douche."

She thought it was kind of funny, but Bellamy didn't seem to. He actually looked quite angry about it. "He was cheating on you?" He gritted out.

She shook her head, patting his chest. "No, no, he was cheating on her, with me, she was there first. Get it?" She spun around on her stool, liking how it made her stomach swoop. _Woah, ok, maybe too much spinning._

Bellamy grabbed her by the shoulders, halting any movement. She liked how warm his hands were, and how big they were, she idly wondered about the other things he could do with them. The rational part of her brain screamed that she didn't want to think about that, but she ignored it.

"Hey," She said, leaning in. "You wanna come home with me?"

He raised his eyebrows an almost impressive amount. "Jesus, how many have you had?"

She giggled. "Lots. Hey, you never answered my other question."

He stood, so she did too, but her legs felt like jello. His hand went around her waist as he caught her from toppling over. She grinned. He rolled his eyes and began to walk them towards the door. "What question was that, princess?"

She let her head rest against his shoulder, it felt very heavy. "Why do you hate Finn? I mean, before, why _did_ you hate him?"

His fingers skimmed her side and she shivered. She was about to mention that he should watch where he puts those things, but then she realized he was already talking.

"Any chance you're going to remember this in the morning?" He was asking.

She cocked her head. "Do I look like a psychic to you?"

He let out a huff of laughter, and she felt a swell of pride that she had been the one that caused it. "I didn't like him because... I was jealous."

Her face screwed up in confusion. "What?"

He sighed. "Forget it."

"Bell, just tell me." Something about the nickname coming out of her mouth felt strange, like she never called him that before. "Like you said, I probably won't remember in the morning."

She could feel that he was pulling away, that they were probably going to start fighting, but she was too tired. She didn't want to fight with him anymore.

She poked his shoulder. "Come on, Bellamy. It can't be more embarrassing than being walked in on by your boyfriends girlfriend."

The corner of his mouth twitched. They were at the car, so he opened the door and helped her climb in. He buckled the seatbelt for her too, and she smiled appreciatively.

He got in the other side, and started to drive. He sighed. "When you and Finn started dating, I was jealous. I was stupidly jealous. That he got to be your boyfriend, and I—well, and I didn't."

She was confused. "Do you mean—you mean you want to be my boyfriend?" That couldn't be right, didn't they hate each other? Was this a different Bellamy?

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "Yeah."

Her confusion deepened. "But—But you don't like me. I'm a spoiled brat, remember? Are you sure you like me like that?" She had turned completely towards him, needing to see his features to know if he was being serious.

He snorted. "Yeah, Clarke. I'm sure."

She didn't hear any sarcasm, didn't see his normal smirk. What the _fuck_. She was about to voice these thoughts, but she was so sleepy all of a sudden. She let her head lull against the seat, and she was out.

\---

There was a very tiny man trying to dig through her skull. And she really wasn't in the mood.

She stumbled into the kitchen, opening the cupboards with care so they wouldn't bang. "Where is the goddamn advil?"

Octavia chose that moment to crash out of her room, knocking over a pile a books that skittered across the floor in the progress. Clarke winced as her head pounded.

Octavia used to live with Clarke before she moved, so it only made sense that Octavia stayed with her while she was visiting.

"Octavia, could you not— _be so loud_."

The dark haired girl skidded to a stop at the counter, breathless. "You were out with Bell last night. I want details."

Clarke stopped her hunt to face her, eyebrows furrowed. "No, I wasn't."

Octavia rolled her eyes. "Yes, you were. He dropped you off here last night, you were so wasted he had to carry you to your bed!"

Her high pitched squeak went straight to her headache, and she rubbed her temple. The information she was receiving wasn't exactly helping. "Did he say anything? How did he know where I was?"

Octavia gave her a look. "Finn was calling here last night, said he couldn't get through to your cell phone—"

"Because I blocked him."

"Yeah, but Bell didn't know that, thought you were dead in a ditch or something, so he went to find you."

 _Aha! Found the advil._ "Why would he care if I was dead?"

Octavia made a dramatic motion with her hands. "I don't know! But he did! So he went to your favourite bar and found you, and that's all he said. And that brings us to now. Details."

Clarke padded to the living room, giving Octavia a look on the way by, she wasn't far behind.

"Octavia, I don't remember anything. I remember dumping my boyfriend, then going to the bar. After that, nothing." She sipped happily at her water, enjoying how it soothed her throat and ebbed her hangover.

Octavia pouted from the other end of the couch. "How disappointing. I'll just have to pester Bellamy about it then."

Clarke flipped on the tv, flitting through the channels. "Good luck with that."

When Bellamy came over that night for tacos, Octavia was getting groceries, which left Clarke alone with him. Normally, she'd feel anxious at even the thought of being around Bellamy, but she was feeling fine when she opened the door at his knock.

He was wringing his hands, and his haired was mussed, like he'd been running his hands through it. He seemed nervous, and she didn't know what to make of it, so she just ignored it. "Hey, come on in."

He nodded and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

She started cutting up the lettuce, narrowly missing her finger with each slice. She liked living on the edge, clearly. "So, I heard you picked me up last night."

She didn't know if she imagined his breath catch, but she chalked it up to his all around weirdness tonight.

She faced him, and saw that he was pointedly staring at the floor. When she said his name, he jerked his head up and the corner of her mouth twitched. "Thanks, that was really nice of you."

He cleared his throat. "Well, it was just—the right thing to do."

She moved onto the tomatoes, dicing them and squirting the juice in every direction. "Yeah, but you didn't have to, I wouldn't have expected you to, either, with um—our relationship." She stumbled over the words and had the sudden urge to be swallowed up by the floor.

Bellamy closed the distance between them, and she felt heat rise in her chest as he reached over—

To grab an avocado and begin to cut it up. She forced her breaths to be even.

"You make it sound like just because we fight a lot it makes our morals jump out the window." His tone was teasing, not condescending, like she was used to.

She rolled her eyes and hit her hip against his. "My point is that it was sweet, so thank you again."

He paused in his slicing, but didn't look at her. "So you don't remember anything?"

She shook her head. "I remember getting to the bar and ordering a drink, but nothing else."

He continued his cutting, but he was going way too fast. "Bellamy, slow down, you're going to—"

He dropped the knife and cursed. "Fuck. _Fuck_ , ow." He jumped around the kitchen, and it would comical if there wasn't a trail of blood following him.

She chased after him, demanding he let her see it. He, of course, refused. "It's fine, just a little cut. Smack a bandaid on it and I'll be good."

She inhaled deeply. "Bellamy Bradbury Blake, I swear if you don't stop acting like a child this instant I will be forced to take measures that you will not enjoy." She tapped her foot, and waited.

He glanced between her and his hand, then sighing, made his way over to her grumbling, "I could take you down easily if I wanted to."

She ignored him and pulled his hand—along with the rest of his body—closer. She probed with wound, ignoring his hiss, and tsked when it gushed with more blood. She dragged him over to the sink, and held it under some cold water, smirking when he sighed with pleasure. It was almost insanely deep, she could see bone if she looked hard enough. It was the width of his palm, and she was sure it was going to leave a scar.

She tugged her lip between her teeth. "You're going to need stitches. I'll call Octavia and let her know—"

He took his hand back, and began digging through the kitchen drawers. "There's no need, I can do it myself." As she gaped at this statement, he finally produced a needle and thread.

"Bellamy, you can't give yourself stitches." This was ridiculous.

He jumped up onto the counter, setting all his tools up beside him. "When O was little, she used to get in fights all the time, so she'd need stitches, _all the time_. The hospital bills were getting too expensive, so I learned to do it myself. I practiced on fruit and stuff, and then eventually, I could do it on real skin no problem. She still had a few nasty scars though." He smiled.

She was a little shell shocked, this was the longest conversation they'd ever had, fights included. She felt her chest squeeze for them, but she kept it off her face, she knew how Bellamy felt about pity.

"Could you get me some ice?" He asked, pausing the needle that was headed straight for his skin.

She handed him an ice pack and he held it to his hand, allowing it to numb. She clenched her fingers, still wanting to stop him.

She bit her tongue for as long as she could, but, "Bellamy. I really don't think you should—"

She let out a small yelp when he plunged the needle into his skin, barely even wincing at the pain. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. _Wow, he can do that better than I can._

He finished, and cut the string with his teeth. Before she could stop herself, she was grabbing his hand and inspecting his work. It was clean, even and straight.

She pouted. "That's not fair. I have to pay to learn how to do that."

He smirked, and was about to retort when the door opened.

Octavia was laden with grocery bags, and she nearly dropped them when she saw the blood coating the floor.

She glanced between the two of them, clearly noting how close they were to each other. "What in gods name happened while I was gone."

Clarke looked at Bellamy, and when his mouth quirked up into a grin, she burst into giggles, he soon joined.

\---

Finn was getting relentless, even going to such lengths as to getting a new number every time she blocked him. His persistence would be sweet, if it wasn't so damn annoying.

She was having drinks with Harper when he walked in, and headed straight for her.

"Here we go again." Harper muttered.

He stopped in front of her. "Clarke, can we just talk about this? Please?"

She sighed. "No. Go away."

He didn't. "Clarke, please just—"

"When a lady says no, she means no."

Bellamys voice was guttural, he had his hands on Finns shoulders and was turning him away, murmuring threats in his ear as they walked.

If he didn't hate him before, he must now. But why would he? She wasn't friends with Bellamy. They didn't like each other, but they had been very... civil with each other lately. Before, that would have freaked her out, but things had shifted, and she was finding that she liked it.

The boys had made their way to the door, and Bellamy forcibly shoved Finn out it. He was noticeably happier as he made his way back over to them.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. "I could have handled that, you know."

He sat down beside her and stole and swig of her drink. Grinning, he said, "I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you, Bellamy. I will forever be in debt because of the kind act that you preformed on this—"

She shoved him, and rolled her eyes. "How's your hand?"

It had been a couple weeks, and it seemed to be healing nicely. "It's alright, still stings a little. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at avocados the same way again."

She laughed. "Serves you right."

He grinned, and Harper cleared her throat. They both turned to her, neither realizing that they had been staring at each other for the past five minutes.

"I think I'm gonna head out." Harper said, gathering up her purse.

"Oh, no, stay." Clarke said.  
At the same time Bellamy said, "No, no, stay."

Harper gave them a look, like, get real. "Nah, Monroes waiting for me, this was fun though." She gave Clarkes arm a squeeze before hopping down from her stool.

She waved goodbye and then turned to Bellamy, not knowing how to start another conversation.

She glanced over at the pool tables, and he followed her gaze. He smirked. "You wanna play?"

For some reason, a blush spread over her cheeks and down her chest. _Jesus, he didn't ask if you wanted to bang._ "I'm not very good."

His smirk grew and he pulled her off the stool, dragging her to the nearest table. He thrust a cue into hand, telling her keep still as he chalked it up. When he finished, he arranged the balls into a triangle.

"Do you know the basic rules?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes. " _Yes_."

He took the first shot that broke the triangle apart, then coaxed her towards the table.

She leaned forward to make the shot, but the angle was awkward. She groaned and tried again.

He finally took pity on her. "Like this." Each hand covered one of hers, and he was practically on top of her. She hated the way her blush returned in full force, and it wasn't because she sucked at pool.

His breath was hot in her ear. "This ok?"

"Yep." She squeaked.

"Good." His voice sent a shiver down her spine. He pulled back the hand that was at the end of the cue, and sank the shot.

He pulled away much too quickly, and she had the sudden urge to pull him back. Which was absolutely absurd, she broke up with her boyfriend and suddenly she was willing to jump on the first guy that showed her some kindness? She needed to get it together.

He won, and he was completely smug about it.

She shoved him as they went out the door. "You only won because I'm drunk."

He snorted. "Oh yeah, otherwise you would have kicked my ass."

Her foot slipped off the sidewalk as she took another step, and he grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling. She landed against his chest with a _oof_.

She giggled. "Sorry, I'm a klutz."

He shook his head, but he was smiling. " _Sober_ you're a klutz, drunk you're a downright hazard."

She gaped. "Excuse you, I am offended."

He huffed a laugh. "I'm sure you are, princess."

The name struck something in her, and she suddenly felt very sober.

Bellamy noticed her change in emotion and stopped walking. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, looking at the ground. "Nothing, it's just—just that nickname."

His forehead wrinkled. "Clarke, you know I don't mean in that way anymore."

She nodded. "I know, it's just—"

He took her face in his hands, effectively cutting off the supply of words to her brain. She hadn't realized how close they were standing, she could count how many freckles he had on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel like dirt just because you grew up with money. It was a shitty thing for me to do." His eyes were soft, and she tried to ingrain the look into her brain.

She smiled. "Bellamy, it's ok. We were both shitty to each other. It's not all on you."

He nodded, and his face morphed back into its normal tough guy persona. "Good."

As he slid his hands away from her cheeks, his thumb brushed her lip, and she visibly shivered. She froze, hoping he wouldn't notice.

He did, and his gaze lingered on her lips, his parting in the process. "Clarke—"

"Clarke!" A shrill voice called from behind them. She inwardly groaned and turned, to find Finns girlfriend walking towards them.

She felt Bellamy bristle, and she slid her hand down his arm to squeeze his hand. He growled a protest in her ear, and another spark danced down her spine.

She addressed the dark haired girl. "Hey, um—"

"I'm Raven. This your new boyfriend?" Her eyes traveled down to their linked hands, and when Bellamy tried to pull away, Clarke held on tighter.

"No, we're just friends actually. How's your boyfriend?" She wasn't going to be intimidated, nope, nope, nope.

Raven crossed her arms. "I wouldn't know, we broke up."

Clarke let her fighter stance chill a little, because well, now she was curious. "What are you still doing here then?"

Raven simply shrugged. "I wanted to stay a while, see if you wanted to get a drink actually."

The surprised look must have shown on her face because Raven smiled. "We both got played by the same guy, doesn't that make us blood brothers or something?"

Clarke huffed a laugh. "Or something. How about tomorrow night? At Grounders?"

Raven nodded. "See you then." She walked by them, giving a very sly smirk at Bellamy as she did. Clarke hid her laugh in her hand.

He shook his head, turning back to her. "Walk to your place?"

She nodded, not making a move to let go of his hand. He didn't seem to mind.

\---

"What's going on with you and my brother?"

Clarke didn't look up from her sketch book. "We're madly in love and planning to elope in Vegas."

Octavia swiped the book out of her hand. "Hardy har. I'm serious."

She sighed. "There's nothing going on."

Octavia narrowed her eyes, and climbed onto the other end of the couch. "I think you're lying. You know I'd be totally down with it, right?"

Clarke wiggled her cold toes under Octavias legs, making her scowl. "Octavia, we've just barely become friends. There is nothing happening between the two of us." Ok, _yes_ , she did get a very overwhelming desire to kiss him, but that's not important. Or anything Octavia needed to know.

She grasped Clarkes hands and squeezed. "I just want you both to be happy. And I think you could find that together." She sing-songed the last part.

"I know. Maybe, in the very distant future, something might happen, but until then, we're just trying to be friends."

She didn't know why it felt like a lie.

\---

Drinks with Raven was actually some of the most fun she'd had in a while. She told amazing jokes, and kicked ass at pool. By the end of the night, they had decided to plan a beach trip together with the rest of Clarkes friends.

Raven hugged her goodbye. "Finn may be a douche, but I'm glad I got you out of it."

Clarke squeezed her tighter. "Me too."

\---

"Clarke, I have work."

She rolled her eyes. "Sterling will cover your shift, he's practically in love with you."

Bellamy stole another piece of cucumber from her plate and she glared at him. "He's not _in love_ with me."

Clarke swatted his hand when he plucked another slice off. "Not the point. You can definitely come to beach day."

He grinned when she groaned as he stuffed three pieces into his mouth. "I knew that, I just wanted to hear you beg for me to come."

"I wasn't _begging_." She scoffed, then simply handed the plate over.

\---

Octavia and Raven clicked instantly, after they both established that Finn was a complete dick.

"I think it's very appropriate that on my last day of visiting we're going to the beach." Octavia drawled from the front seat. Clarke was beside her in the middle, while Bellamy drove. Monty, Miller and Jasper were sandwiched in the back seat, and Harper, Monroe and Raven took their own car.

She smacked a kiss to Octavias cheek. "I agree. You can thank me for coming up with it."

Bellamy snorted, and she turned to look at him. "You got something to say there?"

He smirked. "Nope, not a thing."

She pinched his side, and he shrieked. "No distracting the driver!" He scolded.

She bit her lip to contain her grin, and held her hands up in surrender. Neither one of them saw the surprised looks that were exchanged in the back seat.

"We're here." Bellamy announced, but the other passengers had already jumped out of the vehicle. He rolled his eyes and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

She flicked him. "You're such an old man."

"Am not." He said as they both climbed out.

"Are too." She kicked some sand up at him and he glared.

They continued to bicker back and forth on the way to the spot the rest of them had picked out.

"I don't mind this kind of arguing." He admitted, cupping the back of his neck.

She smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Raven hollered for the to hurry their little butts up, and they laughed before running to join them.

  
"I'm on Clarkes team for volley ball!" Octavia declared, throwing an arm around her.

"Me too!" Raven said, throwing the ball in the air and then hitting it with her head.

"How about boys against the girls." Bellamy suggested.

Miller and Monty nodded their agreement.

Clarke put her hands on her hips. "You guys are going down!" She yelled, and the other girls whooped.

Bellamy got right in her face. "Oh yeah? You wanna go? Ok, yeah. Let's go."

She pushed him, then hurried to join Raven and Octavia. They made a huddle.

"I don't serve." Octavia said.

"I'm really good at spiking but not at volleying. I'm decent at serving." Raven said.

Clarke glanced at the boys huddle, noting how Bellamy had now taken off his shirt. The sunlight glinted off his back muscles, and _god_ did she want to sketch him.

Raven snapped her fingers. "Hello? If we're going to win this you're going to have to stay focused. Can you handle that?"

Clarke blushed but nodded. "Break!"

"Break!" They both echoed.

They won, of course, and the boys threw them into the ocean because of it. They weren't far behind them.

\---

Clarke decided to ride with Raven on the way back, wanting to get a little shut eye. That didn't happen.

"So what's up with you and Blake senior?" She asked, very nearly swerving off the road. Clarke tightened her grip on the handle above her head.

"There's nothing up between us." She said, getting annoyed with having to answer this question about three times a day. There was only so many ways she could say _no_.

Raven was laughing. "I beg to differ sunshine, if theres nothing up then what is that bulge in Bellamys—"

Clarke shrieked. "Raven! That's—That's—We are not talking about this."

Raven was cackling now, going all over the road. "And I can see by the blush on your face that you feel exactly the same way."

She stuttered, then took a deep and hopefully cleansing breath. "Do not."

Raven cackled harder, and she flicked her. It didn't do any good.

\---

She hugged Octavia goodbye at the airport, quickly wiping away the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

Octavia saw them anyway. "I'm gonna miss you too, Griffin. Take care of my brother." She gave a look at Bellamy that distinctly said, _don't murder each other._

Bellamy grumbled. "I can take care of myself." But he still wrapped O up in a hug.

"Have a safe flight." He said into her hair. Octavia said something too, but Clarke couldn't make out what it was. Whatever she said, it made Bellamy turn crimson and look straight at Clarke. She raised her eyebrows in response, but he just shook his head.

He gave Octavia a little shove. "Get going, you're gonna be late."

She stuck out her tongue and gave them both another hug on principle.

They waved goodbye and when she was out of sight, began walking back to the car.

"You think she's happy?"

The question caught her off guard, and the look on her face must of said so because he shook head and told her to forget it.

"Bellamy. Yeah. _Yes_. Of course I think so. Trust me, she'd say something about it if she wasn't." She gave his shoulder a nudge with her own.

He smiled, finally. "Thanks princess."

She grinned. "Glad to be of service."

But they were back in bickering in the car when Clarke wanted to listen to Pop101 and Bellamy wanted to listen to B03Classics.

"This is my car and I am going to pick what plays in it!" He stuck a finger into the middle console for emphasis.

She swatted it. "I am a guest and I should be able to be comfortable during my stay!"

He gave her a look. "That is by far your worst argument. Ever."

She stuck out her tongue. "Doesn't make it any less true."

\---

"Bellamy?" She said, voice still groggy from sleep. She opened the door a little wider and noticed he had a overnight bag slung over his shoulder, she raised her eyebrows in question.

He smiled sheepishly. "Um, my apartment flooded. And—"

She was wide awake now. "Flooded? How deep? Is your stuff ok? Have you called your land lord? Come in, come in, come in." She herded him into the living room and dashed off to make them both a coffee.

She poured some cream into her own and left his black, just how he liked it. She hurried back to the couch and handed to him, then sat down. "Tell me what happened from the very beginning."

He huffed a laugh. "It's not bad, my sink exploded, so the kitchen is flooded. The rest of my apartment is fine, but I need somewhere to stay while they're fixing it. I was thinking—"

She gasped. "Oh, you can stay here! Octavias room is all set up. Should be no problem getting settled."

He still looked hesitant. "Are you sure? I know this is really last minute."

She squeezed his arm, probably harder than necessary. "It's completely fine, Bellamy. It's been much too quiet here since Octavia left."

He grinned. "I really appreciate it, Clarke."

She swiped the empty mug from his hands and dumped it in the sink. "Don't think twice about it." And if she got to ogle him without a shirt on every once in a while, well that was ok with her.

\---

"Bellamy! Did you drink all the OJ?" She yelled, shaking the empty carton. Bellamy ate and drank considerably more than Octavia did, it felt like every time she turned around she had to go buy more groceries.

("Maybe because you only ever buy enough for one. I told you I can buy my own—"

"You are a guest, and you will be treated like one. Now, do you prefer your pillow flat or fluffed?"

"Fluffed, with a chocolate.")

He came out of the bathroom while scrubbing his head with a towel, the top half of him was considerably bare. "No, Clarke. You drank it last night during your study session. You practically chugged the thing."

Now it wasn't the first time she'd seen him shirtless, but she felt she better appreciate each time the way it deserved. Bellamys abs were nothing to glance at, they had to be properly drooled and gawked over. It was only right. "Well, we're going to have to get more."

He ducked around her to grab an apple out of the fridge. "Or you could drink water. Instead of something pumped full of sugar that's—"

"Only going to rot my teeth, I know. I have to hear this at least three times a day." She darted away from his attempt to tickle her.

He scowled. "You don't show it."

She stuck out her tongue. "Go get dressed and get to class, hooligan."

He let out a surprised laugh. "Oh _I'm_ the hooligan—?"

She smacked his arm. "Yes, now go. Hurry up."

He muttered, "Bossy." on his way out, and he wasn't quiet about it.

\---

" _You're living with Blake senior?_ " Raven practically screamed into her ear.

She rubbed it, scowling. "Could you be any more loud about it? Yes, his apartment flooded, so I offered him a place to stay until it was fixed. Not a big deal." The urge to jump his bones had grown stronger, but she'd keep that to herself.

Ravens eyes were wide. "It is a big deal! Seeing each other in various states of dress, always around each other, that sexual tension is bound to break at some point." She sing-songed, stirring her drink.

She rolled her eyes. "There isn't any _sexual_ —you know what? I'm not talking about this with you."

Raven gave her a pointed look, and Clarke groaned. "Or anyone else!"

She shrugged. "I'm telling ya babe, you guys are going to have very pretty babies."

She let her head drop onto the table. "I hate you."

Raven patted her head. "I know, but only because you know I'm right."

She growled as she took a sip of her drink.

\---

Graduation day was finally upon them, and Bellamy was freaking the fuck out. (She found it rather adorable.)

"What if I forget my cue cards? What if I trip on my gown? What if someone steals my hat? What if I forget to wear underwear!" He paced back and forth in the living room, and his hair was sticking up in all directions from him pulling on it so much.

She wrinkled her forehead. "How do you forget to wear underwear? Has that happened before?"

He stopped to glare. "It's bound to happen at some point, Clarke."

She snorted, then quickly composed herself when he made a noise of distress. "Ok, I get it. You're stressed. Come here." She patted the space beside her on the couch.

Reluctantly, he shuffled his way over and flopped down. She twisted his shoulders until he faced away from her, and then began to knead the muscles in his back. He made a sound of pleasure when she hit a certain spot, and she dug in there.

After a few moments in silence, she spoke. "My dad always used to say that the waiting for the big thing was always worse than when the big thing actually happened. You're going to be a great valedictorian, Bellamy. I believe in you _and_ your nerdy brain."

He huffed, but she could tell he appreciated it.

"Better?" She asked.

He nodded, but his back was still tense and tight. She hummed, then leaned back, pulling him with her. He exhaled loudly, complaining that he wasn't a baby.

She flicked his ear. "No one is doubting your old manedness, Bellamy."

He craned his neck to look at her. "You know, I really don't think that's a word."

She shushed him, poking his cheek until he turned back around. "Just sit with me and relax, ok?" She ran a hand through his hair, grinning when he leaned into it and practically purred.

"Thank you." He said.

She swallowed. "No problem."

His fingers were idly tracing patterns on her thighs, and the nagging voice in her head told her repeatedly that this wasn't something friends did.

\---

"Woot, woot! Graduation is over! Say hi to the camera!" Monty said, panning the camera around.

Monty, Miller, Jasper, Bellamy and Clarke had all graduated at the top of their class. Bellamy surpassed all of them, of course.

Raven swung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Let's go get drinks!" She screamed.

They all whooped in agreement.

"Another round, Gina!" Jasper said, downing his drink and grimacing.

Raven nudged her shoulder. "So, Gina. Is she single?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You wanna hit that?"

She shrugged. "Depends on if she's single or not."

Clarke giggled, and told her to go for it. "You deserve a little happiness."

"Aw, Clarke. Now why you gotta go and get all sappy on me like that?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's called caring, Reyes. Get used to it."

She grinned, and Clarke went off to find Bellamy so she could challenge him to a game of pool.

"You ready to get your ass kicked?" He asked, lining up the shot.

She smirked. "Big talk for someone who's holding the cue backwards."

He glanced down and scowled. "Ha! Made you look." She said.

He won, _again_. And she decided that maybe pool just wasn't her thing.

After her fourth drink, she was leaning heavily on Bellamy and he tucked her under his arm.

"Let's go home." He murmured.

She nodded sleepily and they headed for the door.

At home, they decided to stay up and watch a few Friends episodes. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and covered them both with it. "Good?"

She snuggled a little closer. "Yeah."

But her mind would not focus on anything except the shape of his jaw, or the dip in his chin, or the way he bit his lip at a dirty joke. There was a distinct throbbing between her legs, and she didn't want it to stop.

"Hey, Bellamy?" She said, sliding closer.

He hummed, not paying attention.

"Do you realize how sexy you are when you clench your jaw?"

His head snapped to her, and he swallowed, his jaw working as he did. She smiled.

"Clarke," It came out strangled.

She carried on as if he hadn't spoken. "Or when you lick your lips? Yeah, that really gets me going."

Almost on cue, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. She slid into his lap.

"Or when you swear." She rocked her hips against his, and he let out a low growl.

She ducked down to kiss him, but he dodged her attempts. "Clarke, you're drunk. You don't know—"

She bent her head to suck on his pulse, and it sufficiently shut him up. She spoke against his neck. "I know exactly what I want, Bellamy. You."

He groaned, his hands latching onto her hips, hard enough to bruise.

"Couch or bed?" He got out.

"Bed." She slipped her top over her head, and this time when she leaned forward to kiss him, he met her halfway.

He stood, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She suddenly was pinned to the door jam, and she squeaked. He grinned against her mouth.

He set her down in front of the bed, and they both chucked off the rest of their clothes.

His eyes slipped treacherously slow over her curves. "Wow. You're gorgeous." He breathed.

Her eyes lingered on his length, mouth basically watering. "You're not so bad yourself."

He grinned, closing the space between them. He picked her up and deposited her on the bed, crawling over top of her. His fingers danced along her ribcage, finding their way between her legs. She moaned, and surged up to kiss him.

"Fuck, Clarke, you're so wet." He pressed his lips along her jaw, making his way down her neck and eventually to her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, and she swore under her breath.

She felt his grin against her skin. "You like that, babe?"

She panted. "Yes, Bell—Bell—"

He plunged a finger into her, and she cut herself off with a cry.

One thumb drew circles over her nipple, while the other worked her clit. It maybe should have felt weird, to do this with him, but she couldn't think much of anything when his hands were _this_ great.

She writhed against the bed. "Fuck. _Fuck_. Bellamy, I—" then everything was gone.

She whimpered. "Bell—Bellamy, I'm so close, please."

He held himself over top of her, biting her earlobe. "Can I get my mouth on you?"

Her nod was so enthusiastic it was almost embarrassing. "Please, please."

He nipped at her neck. "Tell me to go down on you."

She practically shoved him towards her lower region. "Go down on me." She was aiming for bossy, but it came out more breathless than she expected.

He kissed down her stomach, sucking little love bites every few inches. "Say my name."

She took his hair between her fingers, tugging at it impatiently. "Bellamy. Bell—"

He licked into her, and she cried out. "Bell—Bell—Bell—"

He threw one leg over his shoulder, and anchored her down with his arm. He didn't go slow, like most guys did, no, he was a man on a fucking mission. He licked and sucked until she was thrashing around on the bed, barely able to think.

"Bellamy, I need—I need—"

He added a finger to the mix, and pumped. "I've got you, babe, come on. Come for me."

She didn't quite scream when she came, but it was close.

He was a smug bastard, of course, grinning as he climbed on top of her again. He kissed her, and she was surprised when she tasted herself.

His fingers teased her breasts, and soon she was aching, rubbing against him for friction.

He huffed a laugh. "God, girls bounce back quick. Do you have any condoms?"

She nodded, and pointed to her nightstand. He jumped off to grab one, and she barely repressed her whimper at the absence.

He rolled the condom on, and excitement zinged up her spine. She bit her lip in anticipation.

He noticed and clambered on top of her again, but he didn't put his hands on her.

"Touch yourself." He said, sucking at her pulse point.

She did as she was told, teasing herself and grasping her breasts. She moaned, and he swallowed it. Finally, he replaced her fingers with his own and then held her wrists above her head.

"Get in." She grit out.

He nipped her neck, and teased her entrance. She groaned. "Bellamy—"

He slid all the way in, cutting her off with a sigh. With her hands still held over head, she couldn't rake her nails over his back like she so desperately wanted to. She bit at his jaw. "Let me touch you."

He growled, low in his throat, and released her hands. She let them roam all over his stomach and chest, finally scraping her nails over his shoulder blades. He hissed, and rocked his hips faster.

He panted against her neck, and she finally realized the words he'd been saying over and over was her name.

"Clarke, Clarke, Clarke."

They climaxed at the same moment, both grunting and moaning. He reached a hand in between them to rub her clit, stretching out her orgasm.

He laid on top of her for a moment, breathing heavily. He gave her a lingering kiss before rolling off and throwing away the condom. He gathered up his clothes, and headed for the door.

She propped herself up on her elbows. "Leaving so soon?"

He smirked. "I'm right down the hall if you're up for another round."

She huffed and flopped back, throwing an arm over her eyes.

 _I just had sex with my roommate_.

\---

Before, she could ignore the feelings she felt for Bellamy. Before, she could just chalk it up to being in need of some good sex. Before, she didn't know what noises he made when he came, or how demanding he liked to be in bed. Before, she could fucking carry on with her life and pretend the little rush she got when she saw him was just because he was damnably good looking.

Not anymore.

But it didn't seem to affect Bellamy in the slightest. He teased her just the same, touched her just like they had before, showed casual affection when needed. Maybe he wore a little less clothing, but that was probably more a comfort thing.

She decided to ask him about it, while they were watching tv.

"Are we good?"

He smirked. "Because we had sex?"

She nodded, refusing to blush just at the mention of it. She was a grown woman for christ sake.

He flipped through the channels. "Just because I've been inside you doesn't mean we have to stop being friends."

She choked. "Bellamy!" She threw a pillow at him. He cackled.

She worried her lip. "Do you wanna do it again?"

He immediately dropped the remote and pulled her into his lap. She laughed. "You're easy."

He palmed her breasts. "Yes, yes I am."

\---

It just became a thing, he'd crowd her up against the counter after he got home from his new teaching job, or she'd corner him in the shower.

It was nice, to have a fuck buddy. Who she had feelings for, ok, maybe it wasn't the greatest situation in the world. But it wasn't like she was going to _stop_.

Which is why it really sucked when Raven caught them.

She slapped a hand over her eyes. "What the fuck is going on! Oh my god, so much deja vu right now."

Clarke couldn't help but snort as she pushed Bellamy off of her.

"Fucking Reyes, don't you knock?" Bellamy grumbled, putting on his clothes.

Raven put a finger in the air. "Ok, you were definitely fucking Griffin. And no, I don't. So you should know to put a sock on the door!"

She let her know that they were now fully dressed, and Raven peeked between her fingers. Sighing, she put her hand down, only to immediately put it on her hip.

"Are you together?" She looked like she already knew the answer.

Clarke glanced at Bellamy, to find him staring hard at Raven. The look in his eye was a warning.

 _Ok, then_. "No, Raven, we're not. What are you doing here?" She didn't know why she felt like she was being accused of something, but she didn't like it.

Raven tore her gaze from Bellamy and huffed. "I was just coming over to see if you wanted to go out, since you weren't answering your phone. Now I see why." She gave them both a distasteful look.

Clarke refused to blush. "Did you want to go see a movie?"

Raven nodded stoically. "I'd love to. Just us girls, though." She gave Bellamy a pointed glare, and he flared his nostrils.

Clarke briefly looked between the two, and not wanting to sew back on someone's limb today, she intervened. "Raven, can I have a moment alone with Bellamy? I'll be right out."

Raven flipped her hair, and muttered something in spanish before closing the door behind her.

She turned to Bellamy, touching his arm when he didn't look at her. "She won't tell anyone if we don't want her to."

His gaze didn't soften, and she furrowed her brow. "That's not what's bothering you."

He shook his head. She stepped toward him and took his face in her hands. "Bell, what is it?"

He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. "Just go to the movies and leave it alone, Clarke." He shoved away from her and stomped down the hallway, his door slammed shut a second later.

She shook her head, knowing that he needed a little time before he'd talk about it. She knocked on his door as she walked by. "I'll bring you back something." She said softly. There wasn't a reply.

She sighed, and grabbed her purse. Raven gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head.

"It's nothing we haven't been through before." She swiped her keys off the counter and held the door open for Raven as she walked through it.

"Yeah, Octavia told me that you guys used to fight constantly." She pressed the elevator button.

Clarke smiled as she remembered, and Raven laughed. "From what I heard, they weren't happy memories."

She laughed too. "No, they weren't. But thinking about it now just makes me realize how stupid those fights were. We both judged each other so quickly, we wasted all that time hating each other."

Raven gave her a thoughtful look, and nodded. "Yeah. So, what movie do you wanna see?"

 _Wasted all that time_. "Um, I don't even know what's playing."

 _Wasted all that time_. "I heard that dog movie is good. Or we could go see a comedy?"

_Wasted time. Wasted time. Wasted time._

\---

The words stuck with her for the rest of the afternoon, and she didn't know why. They tumbled around in her head, not letting her think about anything else.

Raven dropped her off around supper time, candy bar for Bellamy in hand. She was positively starving.

She unlocked the apartment, to see that he hadn't left his room.

She got out some pasta, and boiled the water for it, then dumped the noodles in. When it was almost ready, she yelled that supper was on the table.

When he unsurprisingly didn't surface, she went and banged on the door. "Bellamy, you have to eat."

"Not hungry." Came his muffled reply.

She banged again. "Don't care. I made too much to eat it by myself."

When he didn't answer, she reached for the handle, but then it swung open on its own. Bellamy stared down at her with red rimmed eyes.

She immediately softened. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you ok?" _Wasted time_.

His voice was gruff. "Fine." He pushed past her, and grabbed a plate. He began scooping the pasta onto it, loading it with butter and parmesan.

She glared at his back, suddenly annoyed with his behavior. She got herself a plate and did the same to her pasta.

They sat at the table, not speaking, shoveling the food into their mouths. She stared at him, wanting to understand what was going on.

_Wasted time._

"It's like a fucking parrot." She muttered, slurping a noodle.

Bellamy looked up. "What was that?"

She sneered. "Nothing."

He narrowed his eyes, but let it drop.

_Wasted time._

\---

They both made an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't sleep together again, and they barely said a word to each other for months.

\---

Her mom called her on a particularly horrible day. She'd been crying for most of it.  
"Hi baby."

She pushed a hand through her hair. "Hi mom."

"I called to invite you for christmas. I miss you, I'm sorry for all those things I said to you. I want my daughter back."

And then Clarke just burst into tears, like an idiot.

"Clarke? Are you alright?"

She sniffed. "Yes. No. I don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed. "I'm in a fight with one of my best friends, and I just—I don't know what to do, mom."

Abby tsked. "Honey, have you tried talking to them? Tried to sort this out?"

She shook her head. "I wish it was that simple. They're really mad at me, mom. I don't even know why."

She tsked again. "Well maybe you should find out."

She worried her lip. "Yeah, maybe. I'll be at christmas, mom. I can't wait."

"Me too, sweetie. I hope everything works out."

She smiled. "Thanks mom."

\---

_"Why do you hate Finn, Bellamy?"_

_His jaw clenched. "I'm jealous."_

_"Of what?"_

_"Of all the things he gets to do to you."_

She jack knifed in her bed, sputtering and feeling very hot from her dream. But—it wasn't a dream. She remembered that. The night in the bar, when Bellamy came to find her. That happened. He wanted to be her boyfriend. He had been jealous of Finn because he wanted to be Finn!

She bounded out of bed and threw open her door, hollering Bellamys name.

She heard him laugh, and she thought that was weird, but she didn't really notice. _Bellamy wants to be my boyfriend. Bellamy wants to be my—_

Then she heard a girl laugh, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

She tiptoed, and peeked around the corner to see a very hot girl sitting at her kitchen table.

Bellamy laughed again, and she must have made a noise, because his gaze snapped to hers. "Clarke! Echo, this is my roommate Clarke."

The girl— _Echo? What kind of name was that?_ —turned around and smiled. "Hello. Come on, I won't bite."

Her hands flew to her braless breasts. "Um, I'm not wearing pants." She spun around and darted into the bathroom, locking the door and then jiggling the handle to make sure.

She splashed cold water on her face, trying to breathe. He brought a girl home, he brought a girl to _her_ apartment. Moments later—or maybe minutes?—there was a knock on the door.

"Clarke?" Came Bellamys voice. "Are you ok?"

She took a deep breath, and swung open the door. "Yep, totally fine. I have to go to, um, somewhere." She side stepped him, and when she glanced into the kitchen, Echo was gone.

Good.

Bellamy followed her to her room, and she glanced between him and the clothes she needed to change into.

Well, she did have to get ready.

She stripped off her clothes and dug around for her favourite pair of jeans.

He quickly looked away. "Jesus, Clarke."

She shrugged as she put on her bra. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

He looked again when she was mostly dressed. "Are you sure you're alright?"

For some reason, that irritated her. She put her hands on her hips. "You can't ignore me for months and then suddenly be concerned with my well being, Bellamy. That's not how it works."

She tried to walk past him, but he caught her arm. "Then how does it work, Clarke?"

She barely remembered the last time they touched, but her body apparently did, because it reacted immediately. And she almost curled into him, but then she saw the anger in his eyes. She wrenched her arm free.

"Why don't you go call Echo, see if she knows." She sounded jealous, she didn't care.

His face contorted. "At least Echo isn't afraid if her friends know about us!"

She snarled, and jabbed a finger into his chest. "You're the one who ended things, Bellamy, you're the one—"

He seized her finger and jerked it away. "Don't you dare put this on me!"

"Then who's fault is it!" She yelled, chest heaving. She was sick of the silence and the walking on egg shells and everything else that came with being in bad terms with him.

He flared his nostrils. "No ones, Clarke, no ones." He stared at her for one moment longer, then walked to his room and closed the door.

Great, they hadn't resolved a damn thing _and_ she was late for work.

\---

They went back to not talking.

\---

She visited her mom on christmas break, she'd booked a week off from the hospital. And she was planning to spend it in the Bahamas with no drama.

Surprisingly, she got her wish. She tanned, she swam, she slept. She finally got rid of the bags under her eyes, and she felt better than she had in weeks.

That immediately deflated when she arrived home to see that Bellamys room was bare.

All of his things were gone; his books, his movies, his clothes. She called out his name, but there was no reply. She opened his desk drawer, and found a note.

_Clarke,_

_My apartment got fixed._

_Bellamy_

She swore and angrily crumpled it up. "That's all you have to say? That's all you have to _fucking say_!" She felt like screaming, like breaking something.

She stomped right back out the door, keys in hand. "This is not how this fucking ends."

She drove to his apartment and banged on the door, the back of her mind registered that maybe Echo was over, but she didn't care. She needed to do this now.

He opened the door, and she saw his guard go up. That only fueled her anger.

She shoved him inside the door. "You're a fucking dick."

He had the decency not to look surprised. "Clarke—"

"You thought you could just leave without saying anything? Just walk out of my life, just like that? I know we're not exactly besties right now, but I thought even you weren't that heartless." She glowered.

He crossed his arms. "I didn't think you'd care."

She let out a noise of frustration. "Of course I care! At least when we lived together I got to see you everyday, and now when are we ever going to see each other? Across the room at parties? Quick glances from either ends of the bar? I can't believe you'd think I'd be ok with never speaking to you again!"

His calm exterior broke. "Well you didn't do very much to show me otherwise! You haven't been able to look at me in months, and every time I try to talk to you, you turn it into a fight! I don't know what you want from me, Clarke!"

 _I want you_. She shoved the thought down, that clearly wasn't an option anymore. "I just—I just want to be able to talk to you again. I just want to be friends." The realization struck her so hard she nearly toppled over, she missed him. She missed him so bad it physically hurt her.

She hugged her middle. "I miss you, Bellamy."

She risked a look at his face, expecting for him to still be angry, but instead she saw remorse and understanding. "I've missed you too, Clarke. Come'er."

She practically ran into his open arms, burying her face in his chest. He tucked his face into her neck, breathing her in.

She began to cry, god she hoped that stopped soon. "I'm sorry, Bellamy. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." She tried to pull away, she didn't deserve to be hugged, not after what she destroyed.

He stroked her hair, and held her close. "It is not your fault. Shh, Clarke, hey, it's not your fault." He kept her caged in as she struggled, and eventually she gave up.

"I'm sorry, Bellamy."

He pulled away just enough so he could cup her face. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who walked away."

She shook her head, another tear escaping. "But I'm the one who let you."

He gave her a watery smile. "Ok, fine. We did this together."

She started to shake her head, and he held her tighter. "We did it together, Clarke. Alright?" He hugged her to his chest, murmuring together over and over again.

Finally, she started to believe it. She sagged against his chest, exhausted from her flight and the arguing.

"Where's Echo?" She asked.

"Right here."

They jumped apart to find Echo staring at them from the doorway. Clarke began to stutter out an explanation, but Echo ignored her and turned to Bellamy. "Can I speak to you? Alone?"

He glanced between the two of them, then nodded. He walked towards the door and shot her a look before closing it behind him.

She did her best not to listen in, but what could she say? The walls were thin.

"Bellamy, I don't think this is working out."

"What do you mean? Of course it is. You told me you wanted me to meet your parents next weekend."

Clarke ignored the burning in her chest. "I see the way you look at her."

She heard Bellamy shuffle closer. "Echo, it's not like that. I've told you before. We fight constantly—"

Echo made a noise of frustration. "Bellamy, if we fought like that we wouldn't be having this conversation right now!"

A long beat. "Echo..."

"We're done, Bellamy. If you're not in love with her, then you're definitely not in love with me."

There were some murmurs Clarke couldn't quite make out, then the door was opening and she scrambled to make it look like she wasn't listening. (She failed.)

Bellamy leaned against the closed door, running a hand over his face.

"Are you alright?" She asked, cautiously.

He looked up, and smiled tiredly. "Yeah, surprisingly. I am."

\---

Gina grazed a hand over Ravens shoulder, and Raven flushed. Clarke smiled, they hadn't been together for very long, but she had a feeling they were going to make it.

Raven turned to her. "We should find you someone, babe."

She quickly shook her head. "No, thank you."

Gina furrowed her eyebrows. "Oh? And why is that?"

Clarke fumbled to come up with a vague explanation to say that she's not over her fuck buddy who's also her best friend who's also just getting over a break up. Unsurprisingly, no words came to mind.

She sighed. "Just not feeling it."

Raven squinted. "There's a dick joke in there somewhere."

Gina laughed, and Clarke rolled her eyes. "Another drink please!"

It was nearly four in the morning when Bellamy decidedly cut her off. "Come on, Griffin. You're going to hate yourself in the morning."

 _I already hate myself. Oh man, that's depressing_. In the car, she held his hand, and he kept running his thumb over her palm.

She noticed a patch of freckles on his wrist that looked distinctly like a crown. _Princess_. "How come you don't call me princess anymore?" It hadn't bothered her, she loved the way he said her actual name, but she was still curious.

He glanced at her. "It's not you anymore."

Somehow, she understood exactly what he meant. _Asshole_ just didn't seem to fit the guy she knew now.

She felt a very overwhelming desire to kiss him, but then her muddled brain reminded her that they weren't like that. He didn't feel the way he had at the bar that night, and she had lost one of the best things that ever happened to her.

"God, that's even more depressing." She mumbled.

\---

"Stop moping." Raven kicked her.

She sighed. "I'm not moping."

She kicked her again. "Well stop doing whatever you're doing."

Clarke wrinkled her forehead. "Breathing?"

They had been watching Friends episodes on netflix, and basically just cuddling on Clarkes couch. Raven obviously wasn't having a good time.

She scowled, then exhaled heavily. "Just go talk to him."

Clarke choked. "Talk to who? I don't know what you're talking about. Hm?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "You're both miserable, I can see that he misses you."

She shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "He has me."

Raven gave her a pointed look. "You know that's not what I meant."

Clarke turned to her. "I'm tired of fighting and then losing him. We're better off as friends."

Raven was exasperated. "How would you know that? You've never been anything else but friends! You've never even tried to be anything else but friends! Oh my god, it's like I'm watching a Jane Austin novel." She cradled her head in her hands.

She nudged her with her foot. "At least those novels are entertaining."

Raven scowled. "And nauseatingly predictable and corny and—"

She threw a handful of popcorn at her. "Ok! Ok, I get it."

"So you'll talk to him?"

Clarke snorted. "Hell no."

Raven grumbled something about stupid friends and their stupid drama about their stupid feelings. Clarke snorted and patted her, then her phone started to ring.

Raven lunged for it, knocking the popcorn everywhere.

"Raven! Let go!" She shrieked.

Raven yanked backwards until she was literally laying down, pulling Clarke with her. Her grip slipped, and Raven let out a whoop, scrambling to get away so she could answer it.

"Clarke Griffins phone, Raven Reyes speaking." She said, a little breathless.

Clarke growled, and made to grab at it, as Raven chattered on, making approving noises. "Really? That's great! Yes, of course. I'll be sure to let her know. Yes, thank you so much. Goodbye. Yep. Goodbye." She hung up, and flopped onto the couch, picking popcorn out of her bra.

Clarke was practically foaming at the mouth. "Well? Who was that? What did they want?"

Raven twirled a piece of hair around her finger. "You know that art job you sent an application for in D.C?"

Clarke nodded quickly, wanting her to hurry up already.

"Well, you got it. You start next month."

She screamed, and pounced on Raven, tackling her in a hug. "Oh my god! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" She squealed.

Raven hugged her back, then shoved her off. "Enough talking, Brad is in the next episode. It needs my sole attention."

Clarke held her hands up in surrender, but she was grinning ear to ear.

\---

It was Monty's birthday, or in his words, a great excuse to throw a party and get stupidly wasted. No one argued with him.

Miller stuck a finger in the air. "I am drunk." Monty kissed his cheek.

Jasper perked up. "Let's play never have I ever!"

They all groaned, but got into a circle on the floor anyway.

Jasper insisted on going first. "Never have I ever accidentally sent a nude to the wrong person.

Raven, Miller and Bellamy took a gulp from their cups, receiving various gasps and slaps on their arms.

"Ok, ok. Never have I ever heard my parents having sex." Miller said, making his eyebrows dance.

Clarke winced, and took a sip of her drink. Jasper gaped. "Griffin! Somehow I just _knew_ —"

She plowed overtop of him. "Never have I ever been so drunk that I don't remember anything the next day."

Everyone snorted and touched their cups to their lips. Raven jerked her cup in the air. "Never have I ever remembered everything later."

Jasper, Monty, Raven and Clarke took a swig, and Bellamys head snapped in her direction. She didn't meet his eyes.

"Never have I ever worn a cheer skirt." Monty grinned.

Jasper let out a exasperated sigh. "It was one time!"

Bellamy was still staring at her, and she started to squirm. Finally, she couldn't help it, and his eyes latched onto hers. She gulped.

His jaw clenched and he looked away. Her heart squeezed, and she moved to touch his shoulder, but he subtly jerked from her grasp. "Don't." His voice was low and gravelly.

She let her hand drop, and tried to focus on the game again, but her brain wouldn't stop playing the memory over and over again.

_"You want to be my boyfriend?"_

_"Yes, Clarke."_

And those stupid fucking words went right along with it. _Wasted time, wasted time, wasted time._

When Monty gently told them all to get out so he could have birthday sex, she remembered that she had ridden with Bellamy. She froze at the door as he got on his shoes.

"I can get another ride—"

He smiled humorlessly and grabbed her arm—"Oh no, you're definitely coming with me."—-and tugged her out the door.

He didn't let go of her as they made their way down the hall and down the stairs. "Bellamy—"

His grip tightened the slightest bit. "Clarke, please, just be quiet."

She promptly shut her mouth.

They arrived at the car and he opened the door for her, and waited for her to get in before closing it. Her heart was nearly jumping out of her chest with nerves and adrenaline. He climbed in on his side, and started up the car. He tore out of the parking lot and headed for her apartment.

She drummed her fingers on her knees, she was doing her best not to fidget, but yeah, she couldn't.

She noticed his grip on the steering wheeling tightening every few minutes, until his knuckles were white.

They whizzed past the street that led to her building and she crossed her arms. "If you're planning on running away with me, you should know that Raven put a tracer in my phone and will do everything in her power to track me down."

He didn't laugh or smile, just kept staring at the road, eye twitching away.

She sunk into her seat. What was he thinking? Why did he care that she knew about how he used to feel? Why did he have to be so dramatic about it? God, she hated boys.

Finally, he pulled into the park just outside of town. He parked and got out, went around and opened her door. _Still a gentleman even when pissed, noted_.

He didn't touch her, but wordlessly handed her his jacket when she shivered in the chilly march air. He directed her to a picnic table, and made her sit down.

He started to pace. "That night in the bar, you were drunk, and I didn't think you'd remember anything—"

"I didn't for a while."

"—I told you the reason I hadn't liked Finn, and you forgot about it. I was in the clear, you obviously didn't feel the same way—"

"That's inaccurate."

"—and I could move on with my life. But now I realize you've known about how I feel about you for months and you haven't said a word about it? What the hell, Clarke?"

She made a few wild hand gestures. "When I finally remembered what happened we were fighting! You were happy with Echo! I wasn't going to ruin that!"

He threw his hands in the air. "I haven't been with Echo for a long time, Clarke!"

She crossed her arms. "You don't even feel that way anymore! Why are we dwelling—"

His face contorted. "What do you mean I don't feel that way anymore? Of course I still want to be with you! I've had a crush on you since that first time we met! Why would you—"

Her heart soared, but immediately plummeted. She inhaled sharply. "You told Echo we weren't like that! That we fought constantly and—"

"I didn't mean it, Clarke! I was trying to get over you! Unsuccessfully, obviously." He shook his head, and crouched, clasping his hands around the back of his neck.

It was all happening too quickly, her brain couldn't recognize the words fast enough. _I still want to be with you. I didn't mean it. I want to be your boyfriend._

He looked up at her, and gave her a watery smile. "And now I've gone and made you uncomfortable with pouring my heart out because you don't feel the same way. God."

She wrinkled her forehead, she may have been a little drunk, but that definitely wasn't right. She sat up a little straighter. "Bellamy. Come here."

Slowly, he stood, and walked towards her, stopping just far enough away that she could touch him. She smirked, and slipped her fingers into his belt loops, yanking him closer. He lost his balance a little and he caught himself on the table, hands on either side of her, caging her in.

She ran her hands up his back, and leaned in. She brushed his lips against his, and there was a noise in his throat. She took it as encouragement.

She pulled him tighter against her and deepened the kiss, exploring his mouth with her tongue. He pressed closer, fingers slipping under his jacket to tease the skin there. She bit his lip a little as she pulled away, and he chased her mouth.

She made sure he was looking at her before she spoke. "Bellamy, I definitely feel the same way. More than you know."

His fingers tightened on her hips and he grinned, peppering kisses all over her face until she squealed.

He rested his forehead against hers, and exhaled. "We're going to do it right this time."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. _Yeah, we will._

\---

They both barely knew what to do with themselves. They couldn't stop touching each other, whether it was his hand resting on her hip, or her playing with his hair, they couldn't get enough of each other.

It made their friends completely nauseous, obviously.

"Were we that bad when we first got together?" Miller asked Monty one night at the bar. Clarke and Bellamy had been in a passionate lip lock moments before.

Monty shook his head. "No way. We were very low key about it."

Bellamy choked. "I once caught you hooking up in the bathroom!"

Miller waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details."

Clarke nosed his cheek, loving the feel of his hand clutching hers. He smiled lazily at her.

 _I love you_ , she thought without warning, and her breath caught in her throat. _And I'm leaving._

He noticed. "You ok, babe?"

 _Not when you call me that_. "Um, yeah. Just tired." She snuggled closer to his side, averting her eyes. He could always tell if she was lying when he looked in her eyes.

He rubbed her arm. "Do you wanna go home?"

Her heart swelled. "Yeah, let's go home."

He smiled, and informed everyone that they were leaving, receiving a chorus of boos in return. He flipped them off.

She held his hand in the car, rubbing circles in his palm. She felt especially proud when he visibly shivered.

"Now that we're alone, will you tell me what's really wrong?"

Her gaze snapped to his, without her consent. And he smirked.

She almost scowled. "There's nothing wrong, like I said, I'm just tired."

"Clarke—"

"Just leave it alone, Bellamy." She snapped. He didn't deserve that, but she wasn't ready to deal with the inevitable yet.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. "You can't do that. We're together. You can't just keep it all bottled up and—" He sighed. "We have to talk about these things."

Her chest ached at how open he was being, she wasn't being fair. "I don't mean to push you away or be cold with you. It's just—I've never had someone who cared enough to want to talk about what was bothering me. I'm sorry."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm not expecting you to tell me everything that you're thinking, Clarke, but I want you to feel comfortable coming to me with things. I want you to want to talk to me."

She turned completely towards him, needing him to hear her. "Bellamy, I already feel that way. You already make me feel comfortable and happy and content. You're the only person I ever want to talk to."

If he was affected by her words, he didn't show it. "What's the problem then?"

She worried her lip. _Just talk to him._ "It's not a problem, it's just—I realized that I loved you. And I guess it scared me." It wasn't an outright lie. It did freak her the fuck out.

He glanced at her, and a grin spread across his face so boyish she couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah? You love me?"

She nodded, suddenly feeling giddy. "Yeah. Yes, I love you, Bellamy."

His grin widened, and he brought her hand to his lips and smacked a kiss to it. "I love you, too, Clarke. I love you so much sometimes it hurts."

She flopped back against her seat. "If you weren't driving right now, I'd kiss you senseless."

Abruptly, he swerved to the side of the road and stopped. He took his hands off the wheel and grinned at her. "Not driving anymore."

\---

She had two weeks until she was supposed to go to D.C, and she still hadn't told him. She had terrible nightmares of being dragged away from him, of chasing him but never being able to catch him.

She woke up with a start, sweat on her lip and brow. Her heart was beating wildly, and she tried to calm her breathing. But she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

She fought with herself for a moment, then threw off the covers and tugged on some clothes.

She was at his door in fifteen minutes, chewing on her lip. She shouldn't have come, she should have just—

The door swung open and Bellamy stared at her, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" His voice was deep and gravelly and her knees nearly buckled at the sound of it.

She plowed into his arms, his chest was bare and warm and just what she needed. His arms came around her tentatively, hooking his chin on her shoulder. "What's going on?"

She sniffed, and pulled away just enough to look at his face. "I had a bad dream, I've been having them for a while—" His face contorted, and he was definitely about to scold her about not talking to him about things, so she hurried on. "—and I've been _fine_. But tonight it was too much, and I needed to see you." She felt a tear trickle down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.

He tucked her to his chest again, rocking side to side a little. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "No. I'd rather just forget about it."

He hummed, showing he was ok with that. "Do you want to sleep here?"

She hesitated, not wanting to assume she could just barge in whenever she wanted. He must have sensed it, because he walked backwards, pulling her with him. He shut the door, and guided them towards his bedroom.

He set her on the bed, and tugged off her shoes, then her scarf, then her jacket. "You wanna sleep in a t-shirt of mine?" He asked, even though the small smile on his face said he already knew. She nodded anyway.

His smile grew and he stepped over to his dresser to get one for her as she discarded the rest of her clothes. He stepped back with a grey one in hand. "Arms up."

She did as she was told, and he slipped it over her head. Hair got in her mouth, and she spit it out.

He stared at her for a moment, and sighed contently. "I love it when you wear my clothes."

She grinned. "I love it too."

He quirked a brow as they climbed into bed. "You love it when I wear your clothes?"

She smacked his chest lightly, rolling her eyes as he laughed.

He sobered, and curled her into his chest, they stayed in silence for a few moments, until her voice filled the room. "Thank you, Bellamy."

His fingers grazed her side, skittering goosebumps over her skin. "Don't think twice about it."

She smiled. "I love you."

He nosed her cheek. "I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

It was the first peaceful night she'd had in a long time.

\---

He refused to let her sleep alone. He insisted that he needed to be there to slay her dragons.

She cocked a hip. "With what weapon?"

He rolled his eyes. "My bare hands, obviously."

She laughed, and allowed him to stay as long as he wanted.

The week before she was supposed to leave, she still hadn't had the courage to tell him.

She woke up a little early, and she dragged her hand down his stomach to rub against his cock. He made a noise, and cracked one eye open.

"That's a pleasant thing to wake up to." He gently pushed her hand away, and slipped off his boxers. She hurried to get her underwear off too, and he laughed when her legs got tangled in them, and he helped her out of them.

His fingers found her clit, and he nipped at her neck.

"Bellamy," She whined. "I'm already wet enough, just get in—" she cut herself off with a gasp as he slid into her.

His breath was hot against her ear. "That what you wanted?"

"Yes. Yes. Bellamy, yes." She panted.

She came with a cry, and he came with a grunt against her shoulder.

He kissed her, dirty and with lots of tongue, then rolled off her.

She lifted his arm, and tucked herself against his side.

His kissed her temple. "I love you."

She grinned and propped her chin up onto his chest. "I love you, too."

His eyes widened a little. "Aren't you going to be late for your dentist appointment?"

She rolled her eyes and got off him. "Just have to ruin the moment, huh?"

He swatted her bare ass and she squeaked, then glared at him. He grinned and started to get dressed to leave.

She paused. "You don't have to. Leave, I mean."

He looked at her, and then straightened. "Are you sure?"

She shrugged. "You might as well, most of your stuff is here anyway."

He stuck out his tongue, then grabbed her to plant one on her. "I'm going to eat all your food."

She shoved away from him. "Jokes on you, I don't have any food."

She darted out the door before he could retort.

She stopped at Ark Café on her way home, grabbing a couple croissants and drinks to surprise Bellamy with. She really didn't have any food.

She unlocked the apartment door and opened it, being quite awkward with all the bags in her hands.

"Bellamy!" She called. When she walked into the living room, she found him, frozen with the phone in his hand.

"Bellamy? What's wrong?" She laid her bags on the table, cautiously approaching him. He jumped away when she tried to touch him.

Her heart plummeted. "Bellamy—"

He smacked the phone against his hand, fidgeting. "Your new boss called, wanted to tell you that they couldn't wait for you to join them. And when I asked what new job, she went on to explain about your application, and how extravagant it was. Then I asked where this new job was, and guess what she told me?"

She reached out to touch him again. "I was going to tell you—"

He threw the phone to the floor. "That the job was at an art studio in D.C! D.C, Clarke! Were you ever going to inform me that you were planning to live four hours away?"

She bit her lip to contain her sob. "Bellamy, you don't understand—"

He growled. "Don't ever tell me I don't understand." He shook his head, and stormed off to the bathroom. She heard the lock click a second later.

She followed, and knocked on the door. Unsurprisingly, he didn't answer. "Bellamy, please. I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want the last of our time spent together to be strained or uncomfortable. Can't we just talk about this?"

His muffled reply came through the door. "We're talking right now."

She huffed. "Can we talk face to face?"

After an agonizingly slow amount of time, the lock clicked, and the door opened. His eyes were red rimmed, and her heart clenched.

He stared at the ground. "Do you want to break up?"

That's what he was worried about? "No, Bellamy. God, no. Never." She paused. "Do you want to? Break up?"

His eyes snapped to hers. "Do you think I'd be this upset if I did?"

She crossed her arms, scuffing her toe against the floor. "I suppose not."

He yanked a hand through his hair, coming out of the bathroom completely to lean against the wall. "We just figured us out, Clarke, and now we have to—" he cut himself off and pressed his hands against his eyes.

She filled the distance between them, and closed her fingers around his wrists, gently pulling them away from his face. She ducked her head to catch his gaze when his lowered his eyes. "Bellamy, we're still going to be together. It doesn't matter where I am, I'm still going to be in love with you."

There was a beat, and then he sniffed. "Can we hug now?"

She nodded, and he tugged her towards him. He buried his head in her neck, and she stroked his hair.

He mumbled against her neck. "I'll come with you, I'll quit my job—"

She froze. "No, Bellamy, you won't."

He pulled back to look at her. "I will. There's plenty of teaching jobs, I'll find one in D.C—"

She pulled away completely, frowning deeply. "Bellamy, you're not giving up your life for me!"

He didn't seem fazed, just drew her back to his chest, cupping her face in his hands. "Clarke, you are my life. I want to be wherever you are."

She let out a little sob. "I want to be with you, too. But you're not giving up the job that you worked so hard for. We'll figure something else out."

He nodded his agreement, and wrapped his arms around her again.

She walked them towards the couch. "Let's cuddle."

He pouted. "I'd rather have makeup sex."

She grinned. "That can be arranged."

\---

She came up with the idea the night before, but Bellamy seemed too stressed to put it on him then. So she told him when he was most pliable, right after he woke up.

She stirred his coffee and took it to their room, sitting cross legged on the bed and poking him until he cracked an eye open.

"You're up early. Thanks." He took the coffee and blew on it.

She traced designs on the mug while she spoke. "So I was thinking, four hours really isn't that long. I could commute every day, and then we'd see each other all the time."

There was a hopeful look in his eye, but he quickly squashed it. "Clarke, it is really that long. You'll run yourself ragged. You're not doing that for me."

She took a breath, not wanting this to turn into a fight. "I wouldn't be doing it for you, I'd be doing it for us. Bellamy, I love you. I couldn't stand just coming home on the weekends and then having to leave almost immediately, not seeing you every day would kill me." She scooted closer on the bed, taking his hand between her own.

He looked at their clasped hands. "Not seeing you every day would kill me too." He whispered, then let out a sigh. "Do what you want Clarke, it's not like I'm going to be able to stop you."

She set their mugs carefully on the nightstand, then pounced on him, straddling him while he laid on his back. He quirked a brow. "Does getting what you want turn you on, babe?" He palmed her ass, and she rocked her hips against his in answer.

She leaned down, bracing herself on either sides of his stomach, then kissed down his chest. Sucking and biting as she went.

When she reached his dick, it was already hard, and she smirked. She slipped off his boxers and took it into her mouth, swirling at the tip. She glanced up at him, and grinned when she saw him fighting to not roll his eyes back.

She scratched her nails along his stomach, the way she knew drove him crazy, and he came in her mouth. She sighed, and wiped at her lips.

She bounded up onto him again, grinning. "Good?"

He grabbed her hips. "You know it was."

She leaned down to nip at his neck. "Just making sure."

His hands skimmed under her shirt and then tugged at the hem. "You are much too dressed."

She smiled, and peeled off her top, nearly blushing at the way his eyes roamed over her chest greedily. He sat up so he could take a nipple into his mouth, and she moaned, carding her hands through his hair.

His fingers slipped into her panties, to find she was already soaked. His mouthed at her ear. "Does blowing me get you wet, Clarke?"

She let out a cry when he plunged a finger into her, pumping fast, just the way he knew she liked it.

He flipped them, so she was on her back with her legs wrapped around his waist. He thumbed her clit until she was panting.

He nibbled on her ear. "Tell me to go slower."

She shook her head, then a hum was all she could manage.

She felt his fingers pulling out, and he gently bit her jaw. "Say it."

Her hips chased his fingers, and she whined. "Go slower, Bellamy."

He smirked against her skin and did as she said, pumping so slow she almost cried.

She scrambled for purchase, and found it on his shoulders, raking down his back. He let out a hiss, and by some miracle, curled his fingers in her faster.

She gasped. "Bell—Bell—Bell—"

He licked at her breast, and she came with a sigh.

He rolled off of her, but tugged her until she was tucked against his side. His hand skimmed up and down her side, making goosebumps scatter over her skin.

"You know what?" He asked.

She traced a finger over his chest. "What?"

He caught her hand and intertwined their fingers. "We are really good at morning sex."

She laughed and turned to look at him, his smile was so soft and full of love it nearly brought tears to her eyes. "I love you."

He kissed her forehead. "I love you."

She pulled the covers up over them, and snuggled against his side again. They were going to be ok.

\---

He got up with her every morning at four, insisting on making her eggs and toast. She drew the line when he tried to spoon feed her.

They hugged for a long while at the door, she found herself struggling not to cry. Bellamy pressed his cheek against her neck.

"You're only going to be gone for a day but I know I'm going to miss you like hell."

Her hands tightened around his back. "I'm going to miss you, too."

He pulled away to give a chaste kiss, then pushed her out the door, giving her butt a firm slap. She yelped, and glared at him. He just smirked and waved as she walked down the hall.

It was a long drive, one she tried her best to enjoy, blasting music and screaming at the top of her lungs. But she knew it wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

She liked the job, even though she didn't have a lot of freedom with the projects she made for clients. A lot of landscapes, but she got a portrait every now and then.

The drive home was always better, because she was driving back to Bellamy. And she bounced in her seat with excitement the whole way there.

She got home around nine normally, unless traffic was horrible, and he was always waiting for her. He usually had supper ready, and it made her love him more every time.

After the first couple of weeks, she had permanent bags under her eyes, and when she got home on saturdays, her only day off, she slept the entire time. Bellamy massaged her achy shoulders until she passed out, then tucked her in.

(She didn't know that he watched her as she slept, a worried crease settled between his brows.)

She eventually began to stay in a hotel a couple nights a week. She could barely stand sleeping alone, it was too cold and the bed was too big.

She jumped into his arms when she got home on friday, wrapping her legs around his waist and breathing him in.

She pulled away, slightly, and he didn't set her down. He touched under her eyes where the bags used to be. "You look well rested."

She smiled and kissed him quick. "I feel well rested." She jumped down and poked her head into the kitchen. "Is that alfredo I smell?"

He nodded and she clapped, going over to stir the pot.

She breathed a content sigh. "You're too good to me. I feel spoiled."

He came up and hugged her from behind, hooking his chin on her shoulder. "Good. That's my goal." He smacked a kiss to her cheek.

They dished up their food, and settled in on the couch, her feet in his lap. "How was work today?" He asked, blowing on a bite of chicken.

She shoved a noodle into her mouth, effectively burning her tongue. "It was good, this girl got me to paint her puppy, and it was so cute! And very obedient, surprisingly."

He squeezed her ankle. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."

She nudged him. "What about you? How was your day?"

He shrugged. "It was alright. Not very exciting, there weren't any puppies."

She grinned. "Sucks to suck, I guess."

He stuck out his tongue. "Was the hotel nice last night? Did you go swimming?"

She shook her head. "No, I just passed out. I missed you, though."

She noticed his smile was sad, and her heart pinched in her chest. She set aside her plate and slid into his lap. When he didn't meet her eyes, she ducked her head to catch them.

She tilted up his chin. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, and attempted a smile, she didn't believe it. "Bellamy—"

He surged up to kiss her, swallowing her words. Her hands curled around his neck against her will, and pulled him against her. His hips bucked up and she groaned into his mouth. His hands went for her shirt, and finally her brain caught up. She pulled away, panting. "Bellamy, we have to talk about what's bothering you."

He pushed the hair away from her face, and she leaned into his palm. He thumbed her cheek. "Nothing's bothering me."

She sighed. "Are you sure?"

He nodded and pecked her lips. "Positive."

(She knew he was lying.)

\---

She was completely spent, the purple under her eyes had come back in full force, and she could barely focus on her work. Her paint brush kept sliding off the canvas and she'd have to start over again.

Bellamy encouraged her to stay in a hotel more often, spewing some shit about absence making the heart grow fonder. She was always too tired to argue with him.

He called her every night, staying on the line until her breathing evened out.

She came home one night to find him pacing by the door, and he offered the most unconvincing smile she'd ever seen.

She set her bag on the table and moved to hug him. "You ok?"

He stepped back and gestured to the couch. "Sit down."

She did, her heart already hammering in her chest. She dug her fingers into her thighs to keep them from shaking. "What's up?"

He put his hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "We can't keep doing this. You're getting weaker, and you're not getting enough sleep. It's not healthy, Clarke."

She didn't understand what he was saying, what he meant. "What are you saying, Bellamy?"

He covered his mouth, and blinked rapidly. "I'm breaking up with you."

What? She couldn't have heard right. She shook her head, and focused on his face, which said she had heard perfectly fine. She stood, tripping over herself to get to him. "No. No. B—Bellamy, you can't."

He backed away, wiping at his eyes. "It's already done." He headed toward the door, and she chased after him.

"What happened to 'you are my life, Clarke'? Was that a lie? Bellamy, just— _just stop_. Wait a second." She jumped between him and the door, and he sighed.

"This is for your own good, Clarke."

Her sadness turned to anger. "You don't get to decide that!"

He pursed his lips. "Well someone has to! You're exhausted all the time! And for what? To see me for a couple hours a day? It's not worth it."

She gaped. "Of course it's worth it! You're worth everything, Bellamy!"

He shook his head. "Not your life." He wrenched open the door, and still she pleaded with him as he stepped out of it.

 _Don't leave me, you can't, please_. "Bellamy—"

The door slammed in her face, and he was gone.

Sobs wracked her body, and she slid to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself.

She didn't get any sleep that night, or the next several.

\---

She opened the door on her second sick day, to margaritas, and Raven.

Raven took in her cape blanket and very ratty hair. "Oh sweetie, you look awful." She set the margaritas on coffee table and grabbed her in a hug.

Then she coughed. "When was the last time you had a shower?"

Clarke shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."

Raven screwed up her nose. "That is a terrible attitude to have." And guided them to the couch. "Come on, have a sip, yep, there you go." She tipped the cup to her mouth, and Clarke sputtered on the bitterness.

She wiped her mouth. "How much alcohol is in there?"

Raven shrugged. "Three parts. Or more. Who really knows." She took a sip herself and shuddered.

Clarke sniffled, and Raven wrapped an arm around her. "You wanna talk about it?"

She buried her face in her chest. "The timing is never right, Raven. It's either we hate each other or I'm drunk or he's dating someone else or I have a stupid fucking job four hours away!" She wailed, flailing her arms around for emphasis.

Raven stroked her hair. "When I broke up with Finn, it hurt. So bad. And he was an absolute douche bag on steroids."

Clarke huffed a laugh, then let the words sink in. "Are you saying that Bellamys hurting even more than I am?" _How can he possible be hurting worse than this?_

Raven rocked them back and forth. "Bellamy... he's loved you for a long time, Clarke. He didn't even break up with you because he didn't love you anymore, he broke up with you because he does."

Clarke scowled. "Selfless jackass."

Raven laughed. "Yes, he should have let you decided when it was too much, but he didn't do it to hurt you."

Clarke pulled away and wiped her eyes. "So much for that." She chugged the margarita, burning throat be damned.

Raven winced. "I'm not going to tell you how to feel, but just know that he didn't want to do it."

Clarke leaned back against the couch, flipping on the tv. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Raven snuggled into her side again. "Let me know when you do."

She never wanted to.

\---

Her work suffered from it. Where it used to be soft and bubbly it was sad and angry. Her boss noticed.

"The clients are noticing a change in your work, Clarke, is there something going on in your personal life?" Jane asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. Just trying something new."

Jane eyed her. "Well, the clients liked what you were doing before."

 _Bite your tongue, Griffin_. She nodded. "I'll try to get back into that."

Jane smiled. "Good."

She made a strangling motion as she walked away.

\---

Octavia called her on a friday. "How are you liking your new job?"

Clarke tucked her legs under her on the couch. "It's good. A little wearing. I stay at a hotel during the week, and I get a discount from my friend Roan."

"How is Bellamy dealing with it?"

Clarke froze. "I don't know."

"How wouldn't you know? He's your boyfriend isn't he?"

She was about to object, he hadn't been that for months. Then it clicked, he didn't tell her. She shook her head. "I, uh, he doesn't like it, no."

She somehow knew that Octavia was rolling her eyes. "Typical." She paused. "Does he make you happy?"

 _The happiest I've ever been._ "Yeah, he does."

\---

She banged on his door. She had driven over to his apartment as soon as she got off the phone with Octavia. Who did he think he was? Not telling anyone that they weren't together anymore? And what did he gain from it? _Fucking bitchass—_

The door swung open, and Bellamy stood there, beer bottle in hand. "Clarke? What are you—"

She growled and shoved him inside. "Why haven't you told Octavia that we broke up?" She slammed the door behind her and crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

He looked stunned. "How did you—"

"Find out? She called me and asked how you were dealing with me being away all week. And when I said I didn't know, she made a big deal about how you were my boyfriend and that I should know. So? Why haven't you told her?"

It was a lot, to see him after all this time. His eyes were droopy and wide, his cheekbones sullen. He had the smallest scruff on his chin, which he always made sure to shave off. She missed him so bad, and she was fueling it all into anger.

"I don't know." His voice was so small and childlike, but she wanted answers.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't lie to me, Bellamy. You know exactly why, and I want to know too. So answer the question."

"Clarke—"

She threw her arms down. "Answer me!"

"Because it would make it too real!" His chest heaved, and he buried his head in his hands. He pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes, and took a breath. He looked at her and put his hands on his hips. "Telling people, especially Octavia, would make it real. I'd have to deal with it, and move on and _I can't do that_."

Her anger evaporated, and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep from falling apart. "Why not?"

He yanked a hand through his hair. "Because I—" He took a breath, and his voice was scratchy when he spoke again. "Because I miss you, Clarke. And I'm not allowed to miss you because I'm the one that broke up with you and ruined everything and—" He sighed. "—even though I'm not allowed to, I still do. And I'm just not ready for it to be a reality yet." He shook his head and crouched, clasping his hands behind his head as he ducked it.

Her lip wobbled, and her breath faltered. Another time, she would have huddled beside him and been able to touch him. She fingered her keys instead. "Bellamy, you're allowed to feel whatever you want. Raven—she told me that when she broke up with Finn it hurt like hell, and, I—I know that this hasn't been easy on you either." A tear slipped down her cheek and she sniffed. "I don't want it to be real either, so I get it. Just—you have to tell her eventually." She risked a glance in his direction, and she instantly regretted it.

He was crying, and she wanted to go over and touch him and hug him and kiss him and just make his pain go away. But she couldn't, that wasn't a privilege she had anymore. And it broke her heart.

She took a harsh breath and headed for the door, planning on leaving it at that. But, she turned back at the last second.

"I miss you, too, Bellamy." She didn't wait to see his reaction, just fled down the stairs as fast as she could.

She barely made it back to her place before she was bawling, and she was having trouble catching her breath.

_You're fine, you're going to be fine. Take a deep breath and get up._

She picked her shaky self up off the floor and began to research studios for sale in Ark.

\---

She quit her job the next day.

Her boss tried to persuade her to stay. "Clarke, you're doing great work here. You're a vital part of this team—"

Clarke shook her head. "But I don't want to be apart of this team. I want to do my own thing, I want to make the art that I want to make without contracts and restrictions."

Jane sighed. "There's nothing I can do to change your mind?"

She smiled, and shook her head again. "I'm sorry, my mind is made up."

Jane clasped one of her hands in her own. "There will always be a job here for you, in case you ever want to come back."

She smiled, squeezing her hand. "Thank you, but I doubt I'll be needing it."

She was going to start her own company, and use the rest of the savings her dad left her to get it up off the ground. It might all go to shit, but like she'd said all those months ago, it was worth it.

\---

She knocked on his door, and idly thought about how there was going to be a permanent mark from her hand.

It opened, and Bellamy stared at her for a second. "Hey, what's—"

She started to talk before she lost her nerve. "I quit my job, and I'm going to start my own company here in Ark. I don't ever want to be apart from you again, Bellamy. If—If you'll still have me, that is." She rocked back and forth on her heels, nervous.

He bit his lip. "You're going to stay in Ark?"

She nodded, feeling hope rise in her chest. "For as long as I can."

He grinned and grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug that lifted her off her feet. She laughed and settled her arms around his neck. He set her down, but didn't let go, and rested his forehead against hers. She made a noise of contentment.

"I love you." He breathed.

She surged forward and kissed him, making him walk backwards through the door. She slammed it closed with her foot and guided them to the couch by memory, refusing to break the kiss. She pushed him down onto the couch, then climbed on top of him.

She carded her hands through his hair. "You have no idea how much I've missed hearing that."

His thumbed rubbed circles over her hips. "I think I have a pretty good idea."

She grinned and peppered kisses all over his face, whispering I love you in between each one.

"I can't promise that we won't hurt each other again." He said, nose against her neck.

She shrugged. "All I'm asking is that we try."

He looked up at her and smiled. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "You're such a dork."

He snorted and pinned her down onto the couch, hovering above her. "A dork that you're in love with."

She grinned, and touched the corner of his mouth. "That I am."

\---

' _Cause I got issues, but you got 'em too_  
_So give 'em all to me, and I'll give mine to you_  
_Bask in the glory of all our problems_  
' _Cause we got the kind of love  
It takes to solve 'em_

_Yeah I got issues, and one of them is how bad I need you_

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be only 4000 words tops,,, anyways


End file.
